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May 2015
I don’t like those good boys
Fresh faced, bright eyes
Chewing on their  white lies
I like the rough lips
Rugged on his cheek bones
Who would have known
I don’t belong to anyone
I held him captive
In my skin
My whiskey lips
Held him in
And exhaled his ghost
Where’d you go?
You’re somewhere in the body sleeping next to me
But the left side of the bed is cold
Who would have known
I’d break the bad boy
Boy, you should have known
When you saw me drinking straight out of the bottle
When I smoked all your cigarettes
I’m nothing but bad news
When we first met
You asked for my name
I said it was trouble
It wasn’t a challenge
It was a warning
That you didn’t head
And now look at us
Broken and bent
Shattered pieces on the bathroom floor
But I’ll get better
I’ll put myself back together
I don’t think you’ll be so lucky
Because I can see the look in your eyes
You’re used to breaking
Not getting broken
And I can tell you won’t be getting over this soon
Written by
Diana  Texas
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